


Private Meth Lessons

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Designer clothes. Expensive tech. Bruises. Dropping grades.Peter's teacher thinks Peter is turning into a drug dealer, but hey, getting mistaken for a drug lord is not actually the worst thing Tony has been accused of so... you know, chill, Pepper.





	Private Meth Lessons

In particular, Henry J. Elliot loved troubled kids.

At 29, he was still young enough to hold onto his somewhat idealistic views while being simultaneously experienced enough to understand his limitations; he knew well he couldn’t save them all, but he was determined to try to anyway. He had a keen eye for spotting trouble and so he instantly took notice when Peter Parker’s wardrobe began to chance.

The Stark watch made its first appearance on a regular Wednesday morning when it was snowing outside and Henry J. was holding a mug of steaming hot raspberry tea because he had a sore throat and drinking tea helped. The Nikes, so bright white they would have made the snow look grey, were the second to appear, followed shortly after by a Stark backpack and a pair of Gucci jeans. Peter Parker was a good kid but not of wealthy origins and so, by the time Henry J. saw him holding the latest StarkPhone, a model so new he hadn’t been aware it had even yet been on the market, he knew Peter was in trouble.

“Mr. Parker,” he therefore said when the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson. “A minute of your time, please.”

Looking both a little confused and startled like most kids did whenever a teacher wanted to talk with them in private, Peter stayed behind while his classmates left the room one after another, Ned and Michelle lingering the longest, up until Henry J. raised his eyebrows at them and inclined his head towards the door.

“We’ll wait outside,” said Ned with a gentle punch on Peter’s arm.

“Sure,” said Peter, shouldering his Stark backpack. “Um. See you soon, I guess.”

With one last equally curious and suspicious glance at Henry J., Michelle closed the door behind them and Henry J. found himself alone with Peter. For a moment, leaning against his desk with his arms folded across his chest, he just studied the boy in silence.

It wasn’t just the expensive clothes and equipment that worried him, no. There were also the bruises Peter didn’t always manage to hide, as well as the fact he was nowadays regularly handing homework in late. Peter wasn’t yet doing poorly academically exactly, not at all, but his grades were dropping gradually. It was clear his mind was often occupied with something else, with something that seemed to weigh his mind enough for him to keep glancing at the clock during the lessons, with something that gave him bruises and expensive equipment and made him hand in assignments late.

Drugs, possibly, Henry J. concluded. Peter was dealing drugs, or if not, he was involved in crime in some other form. It was clear he had run into someone who would pay him _well_ for completing _assignments_ that left him bruised, for assignments that required him to stay out late, if the dark circles under Peter’s eyes were of any indication. A kid from Queens suddenly wearing Gucci jeans and a Stark watch? Yes, Peter was getting a lot of cash from someone – May Parker certainly couldn’t have afforded such a lifestyle.

“I’m sorry.”

Startled, Henry J. blinked behind his glasses when Peter suddenly cut off his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said again, fidgeting nervously from foot to foot. “Is this about the pencil sharpener? I swear I didn’t break it intentionally. I’ll… get you a new one.”

Peter had somehow managed to clench the class pencil sharpener into a useless ball. Henry J. hadn’t seen him do anything unusual with it, but clearly he had compressed it with some sort of tool while Henry J. hadn’t been looking because how else could he have turned a perfectly usable pencil sharpener into something that mostly resembled a metal raisin. Nonetheless, that wasn’t now what Henry J. wanted to talk about – they had issues bigger than a broken pencil sharpener.

“I know your secret,” he therefore went straight to the point. He didn’t miss the widening of Peter’s eyes nor the boy’s instant start. Peter looked suddenly pale and faint, and Henry J. hurried to pull out the nearest chair for him.

“Please, sit down.”

Clenching the straps of his backpack tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white, Peter did as he was instructed, all the while staring up at Henry J. with wide startled eyes.

“I have no secret,” he said the moment he had taken his seat. “There is now secret. I mean, how could there be? Because even if I had a secret – which I don’t – everyone would know about it because it wouldn’t be anything big and I would just tell everyone. So yes, it wouldn’t be a secret, and therefore I don’t have a secret now.”

“...okay,” Henry J. said slowly, not believing the boy for a second – if anything, the nervous blabbering was yet another warning sign. “If there is no secret, then you won’t have a problem telling me where you got that from?”

He gestured towards the Stark watch. Peter was quick to pull the hoodie sleeve over it, an act he seemed to instantly regret as it must have occurred to him how suspicious it would come across as.

“It’s just a gift…” he mumbled, leaning back in his chair as if he to pretend nonchalance, but tense as his body remained, he didn’t succeed.

“Right,” said Henry J., drily. “A gift. As were presumably the Stark backpack, the StarkPhone and the Gucci jeans you-“

“The _Gucci jeans!_ ” Peter’s voice was shrill, he shot to sit up straight. The gaze of his wide eyes was now aimed down and he was moving his legs as if so he could study the jeans better. “These are like _designer_ jeans?”

“Yes,” said Henry J. because he did know a thing or two about fashion if he said so himself, came with working regularly with rich teenagers, one of which Peter Parker was not. “Quite expensive ones, I note, as is the rest of the equipment you have recently been gathering.”

“Oh man,” said Peter, still studying the jeans. “They’re just a part of my lab clothing for when we tinker. Mr. Stark basically just threw them at me and told me to keep them. I thought he was just trying to get rid off some old clothes! I didn’t know these were _expensive_. I mean, they look worn.”

“That’s rather the point, I believe,” Henry J. made sure to keep his voice cool and collected even in the face of the obvious lie Peter had just dared to say to _a teacher_ – “tinkering with Tony Stark” and getting clothes from him? Naturally, yeah, _believable_ for sure. That bad a liar would never make it as a criminal, Peter needed to leave that life behind him asap before it would be too late. Henry J. was determined to bring him back from the edge – he firmly believed Peter Parker could still be saved.

“I care about my students,” he therefore opted for honesty. “Deeply. I wouldn’t hesitate to help if my help was needed and I can promise you, Peter, that I would do everything in my power to set things right again.” 

He hated the thought of any a teen running around with criminals, running after people who wouldn’t hesitate to use them, to violate and to hurt them.

“Running around with criminals is not how you should spend your evenings, Peter,” might have been a frank way to put it, but it seemed to work, for Peter’s eyes shot up and there was a hitch in his breathing.

“W-what?”

“It’s a dangerous life,” Henry J. pushed on, gentle but blunt. “Not something for any a teen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was obviously a lie even if the look on Peter’s face was suddenly guarded, even defensive. He had crossed his arms on his chest and wouldn’t look Henry J. in the eye.

Henry J. sighed and stepped closer to put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Think about your aunt. If you go on like this, she might one day get the news that you’ve been stabbed or shot. Is that what you want?”

“I have to go, Mr. Elliot,” mumbled Peter after a pause, wiggling away from under Henry J.’s hold. “We’ve got… Spanish.”

Henry J. didn’t try to stop the boy – he hoped he had scared Peter enough for him to reconsider his life as a criminal.

“Do think about it, Peter,” he nonetheless said. “Really think about it. My door is always open.”

"Thanks," said Peter. His shoulders looked tense.

Once alone in the empty classroom, Henry J. sighed.

Not yet thirty, his hair was already graying – that was the fate of a caring teacher.

**Author's Note:**

> The Infinity War gave me feels so I just had to write _something_. I absolutely love Tony and Peter's chemistry. (Throw in some Dr. Strange and I'm sold.)
> 
> If you want to read more, take a moment to tell me about it. :)


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